


Slow Hands

by CapricornBookworm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Flirting, Ballet, Banter, Chicken (game of), Clothed Sex, Coming In Pants, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Life After Hogwarts, M/M, Public Sex, Quiet Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Teasing, theatre sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 14:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapricornBookworm/pseuds/CapricornBookworm
Summary: A game of chicken where no one says, “Stop.”





	Slow Hands

****

Harry let out a sigh as he stared around the theatre, taking in the women and men milling toward their seats as the orchestra set up their instruments.

Hermione and Ron had bought a set of tickets for the Ballet _months_ ago, and Harry had actually been rather looking forward to it; that is until Hermione had sent Harry an owl to let him know that they were expecting and she wanted to stay home to rest. Of course, he was incredibly excited for his two best friends, ecstatic to see the wonderful children that he was sure they would raise. But now Harry was at the Ballet all alone, and honestly, he felt rather pathetic. 

He slumped down in his chair with a huff, gaze darting around until his eyes focused in on a couple exchanging a long and languid kiss in the private balcony across the way.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that the ‘famous’ Harry Potter?” a voice drawled from behind him, startling Harry. He scrambled to sit up straighter as he turned around, his heart stuttering in his chest when he met the man’s gaze.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy?” 

Draco scoffed and straightened his suit - which Harry couldn’t help but notice fit him _impeccably_ , the black trousers and deep green suit jacket hugging every inch of toned muscle that covered Draco’s body - “I should ask you the same, Potter. I come to this Ballet at least once a month. Mother’s always been a supporter of the arts,” he spoke, turning up his nose at Harry as he settled himself into the seat beside him. “And what is someone like _you_ doing at such a fine establishment?”

Harry glared at Draco’s haughty profile, grumbling in reply, “Ron and Hermione bought us tickets for Christmas, but they had to cancel at the last minute.”

“Well, that explains your outfit.”

Harry glanced down at the black trousers and knit jumper that he was wearing, wondering what was so awful about his clothing, when suddenly the lights of the theatre began to dim, the chatter dying down in a hush as the first notes from the orchestra carried over the audience. 

For the first few minutes, Harry and Draco remained in perfect silence, both watching the dancers with rapt attention. 

But as a young girl made her way onstage, dancing beneath a shimmering Christmas tree, Harry felt something brush over his knee.

When he turned, Draco’s eyes were still focused entirely ahead of him, no smirk or smile spreading across his lips, no sign of movement. Except that Draco was now resting one of his hands on Harry’s knee.

“What are you doing?” Harry hissed.

“Shhh,” Draco chided, “The theatre is a sacred space, Potter. You’d best remain quiet.”

Minutes later, Harry felt Draco’s hand move further up his leg, inching higher with each passing breath, his pace so slow and delicate that it took Harry’s own breath away.

“Seriously - Draco, what are you -”

Draco squeezed a spot just above Harry’s knee, finally glancing toward Harry as he spoke, “If you want me to stop, just tell me. I’ll stop if you ask.”

Harry swallowed as Draco’s nimble fingers began tracing a design on Harry’s thigh, something about the touch stirring a heat inside him. 

Although Harry knew that rationally, he should tell Draco to stop, should get up and leave, should bloody say or do _something,_ his body remained glued to his chair and his mouth remained shut. He couldn’t fight that part of him that wanted to explore whatever this was.

As one of the dancers finished her last pirouette à la seconde, the audience gave her a polite applause and Draco’s touch was suddenly gone.

Harry was so distracted by the absence of Draco’s touch that he didn’t even process the applause until it was over, a new trio of dancers entering onto the stage.

However, just as quickly as it left, the touch returned. This time, Draco’s hand was even higher on Harry’s thigh, his thumb stroking soothingly over the material of Harry’s trousers.

The higher Draco’s hands moved, the hotter Harry felt, a sheen of sweat breaking out over his skin as his cock beginning to harden in his trousers. He felt ashamed, embarrassed by his arousal. And yet, he didn’t want Draco’s hand to stop its upward progress.

Draco leaned in toward Harry, his voice barely more than a whisper, “I can stop anytime, Potter. Just tell me when...”

Harry’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment as Draco’s touch moved higher, fingers now brushing the inseam of his trousers. 

When Harry opened his eyes, he found that Draco was no longer focused on the stage, instead his grey eyes were focused on Harry, flitting between the growing hardness in Harry’s trousers and the flush that Harry knew was coloring his cheekbones.

“Anytime now, Potter,” Draco breathed, licking his lips as he traced a single finger featherlight across the swell of Harry’s cock. 

But instead of calling it off, Harry found his legs spreading wider to accommodate Draco’s touch, his cock throbbing encouragingly where it lay encased in his trousers, his own gaze becoming focused in on Draco Malfoy.

Following the cues from Harry’s body, Draco brought his hand up to fully cover Harry’s length, stroking over the growing hardness through his trousers. “Think you can stay quiet for me?”

Harry let out a shaking breath, hips twitching beneath Draco’s touch, but he nodded quickly, wanting to do anything to ensure that Draco wouldn’t stop. 

Draco shifted even closer to Harry, his grip firmer, more confident as he began to stroke Harry more steadily.

Harry bit his lip in an effort to keep quiet. He had never actually been very good at staying quiet, always saying what was on his mind, especially during sex. And with Draco’s hand on his cock, Harry found that he had a stream of moans, whines, and curses all threatening to spill out of him. 

A smirk pulled at Draco’s mouth as he took in Harry’s reddened lips, swollen from where Harry was biting down on them, cock now fully hard and straining against the seam of his trousers.

Harry let out a silent moan as Draco began to pay attention to the head of Harry’s cock, running his thumb over the ridge through the fabric of Harry’s trousers, his cock beginning to leak against the material. 

“ _Shit_ ,” Harry whispered, turning to press his head towards Draco as he bit down on his lip to keep from moaning. 

“Getting close?” Draco asked in a hushed tone, leaning so close to Harry that he could feel Draco’s warm breath pass across his cheek.

Harry nodded, hips twitching involuntarily beneath Draco’s hand as his orgasm built steadily inside of him, his release teetering on the edge, so close, so close, so _close_...

But then Draco’s touch was disappearing, the sudden lack of pressure and warmth making Harry shiver. “Wha - ?” he began, opening his eyes to look up at Draco.

“I want you to finish yourself off,” Draco spoke quietly, a mixture of emotions flickering in his gaze. He swallowed audibly, leaning in until his lips brushed the sensitive skin of Harry’s ear, “I want to watch you make yourself come.”

If Draco’s hand was still on him, Harry was fairly certain that he would have come just from those words. The thought that Draco wanted to watch him, that he wanted to watch Harry pleasure himself… _fuck_ it was so much hotter than Harry thought possible.

After processing Draco’s request, Harry gave a quick nod and took a steadying breath before he reached down and began rubbing over his length, using the heel of his hand to dig into the tender flesh, mouth opening in a soft ‘oh’ as arousal coiled tight inside him, ready to burst. 

Next to him, Harry heard a soft intake of breath, and when he turned, the look on Draco’s face was enough to make him come: his pupils jet black and blown wide, his marble white skin flushed and glowing, his lips parted as he watched Harry. 

Harry’s body trembled as his orgasm roared through him, come spilling on the inside of his trousers, his eyes rolling back and his toes curling inside his dress shoes as he rode out the aftershocks. 

Before Harry had even come down from his orgasm, his mind still fuzzy and his vision blurred as waves of pleasure crashed through him, Draco was leaning in to capture Harry’s lips in a kiss. 

They kissed without a care in the world, lips moving slowly against one another, mouths slotting together as though they were two halves of a whole.

Just as Draco’s tongue traced over the seam of Harry’s lips, a roaring applause erupted in the theatre, pulling the pair of them back to the present.

Harry blinked as his eyes adjusted to the theatre once more, noticing that the curtains were now closing for an intermission, the guests in the booths around them now exiting to the lobby for drinks. 

To his left, Draco was looking equally as dumbstruck and debauched as Harry, the sight of which made Harry grin and laugh, unable to hold himself back.

“Sod off,” Draco said, whacking Harry with the Ballet program, which only made him laugh harder. 

“So...” Harry began, turning to look at Draco with a lopsided smile, “You said that you attend the Ballet every month, yes?”

Draco nodded.

“Brilliant. So you’ve seen this a hundred times - give or take - And I don’t even like the Ballet. I say that we go back to my place and finish what we started.”

Draco tried to hold back a grin, but he failed. “Merlin, I’m going to regret this aren’t I?”

Harry hummed, standing up and adjusting his trousers where they had begun to stick to his skin, “If I have it my way, I think you’ll find that we can put on quite the show of our own without ever needing to leave the house.”

And with that, Draco took Harry’s hand and led them out into the lobby, through the crowds of people, and Apparated the pair of them straight to Harry’s flat.

Needless to say, the second round of their game ended just as wonderfully as the first.

****

**Author's Note:**

> This idea popped into my head this evening and I decided I had to write it. Hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Title from 'Slow Hands' by Niall Horan.
> 
> Comments and Kudos make me endlessly happy <3


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